Guardian Fleet Aeuvum
by Razgrizblaze1
Summary: Even the smallest of sparks can bring about the strongest of flames...


A/N Based heavily on the works of Ratchet and Clank: Culture Shock by pyrocajun2707 and The Price of Favoritism by Milliestryker on Deviant Art, this story comes as an idea involving political drama, moral dilemma, the horrors of war, and the loss of humanity. This is merely an experiment and I am still unsure whether I will flow with it or not, though I feel it is a step up from my previous attempts at fan fiction. Unfortunately, there are other ideas I would rather go through with this one but if the initial chapter to this story generates enough of a response, then I will continue onward. With that in mind, review this story if you want to hear the rest. Beyond that, enjoy the beginning…of the end!

Note: Chapter 1 starts approximately 15 years after Culture Shock and The Price of Favoritism.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ratchet and Clank or the stories mentioned in the above notes.

Guardian Fleet Aevum

Chapter 1

The blade draws blood

"Commander…commander, wake up!"

Jumping from his seat, a startled figure quickly jumped in alarm before crashing back down into his mounted chair. Quickly recomposing himself and hoping that no one else on the bridge had noticed, he looked to survey the situation. When a quick sweep of the local surroundings revealed nothing to be terribly out of place, he shifted his gaze before angrily addressing his protégé.

"Yes, what is it lieutenant?" He asked with a snarl, an obvious sign to the young officer that his superior didn't appreciate his interruption.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted something from the lounge!" He stuttered, shrinking beneath the powerful bulk and stare of his Blargian commanding officer.

The commander could only sigh and place his fingers to his temple, trying to relieve the oncoming wave of frustration. For the last 2 years, he had served the good people of the Galactic Federation by sitting his ass in this chair while orbiting around the useless lump of water and rock they call Rilgar. When he first received the assignment to transfer to Rilgar station, fresh from service aboard the Federation cruiser Sigurd, he thought it was a nasty practical joke from command and merely laughed it off when the letter reached his rough grip. Needless to say, the joke was a lot less funny when he set foot on the station and realized that this was probably an inglorious end to his long line of service in the military. Still, despite the grim outlook this assignment conferred, he still sent out a request to the main branch on Marcadia for transfer at the end of each month. And at the beginning of every month, he was met with the same formal letter of denial. Fate was a cruel mistress, but these past few years were especially tough for him.

Met with the view of his superior's venting frustration, the deck officer slowly slid to the side and walked out the door without waiting for a response.

The commander unfurled his fingers and took a look back out the bridge's radial viewing pane, which gave the crew a 360 degree viewing plane. To him, it was more or less another reminder of how far down he'd fallen. On one side, you had the repulsive site of a planet with no tactical value staring at you with its cold, dark surface. To the other side was the black emptiness of space, dotted with its various stars and planets but never anything that remotely resembled a ship. What was even the point of having this outpost? Who would want to attack here? The surface hid no valuable resources, there were only a few factories and settlements, the entertainment was lousy, the food was gross, the view from both there and the surface of the planet was terrible, and it was out in the middle of freaking nowhere!

"All the Hells in this galaxy and I get stuck with this one." He mumbled out loud, not really paying attention to his wording.

"Questioning the needs of the fleet again, Commander?" spoke a young, female cazar seated just beneath the captain's chair.

Lieutenant Jade, one of the brighter lights to shine on the bridge, was always the first to pick at the Commander's words. Smart, young, and on the fast track toward an excellent militart career, he knew it was only a matter of time before she found her way off this rock. First to clock in and last to leave the bridge, dedicated, efficient, talented, and born with the right blood in her veins, she had the makings of a higher officer in her. It tore at the Commander's heart strings that such a delicate young flower had to get stuck out in this pit of a work post. But, with any amount of luck, she would get transferred to fleet duty and pick up a post on one of the central fleet's newer cruisers. Then they would probably transfer in another cazar recruit to replace this one. The commander never knew why, but there was always at least one cazar assigned to the station at all times. Perhaps it was Commands way of keeping an eye on him. Or maybe it was just to remind him of his Blargian heritage and the fact that it would never enable him to escape this dreadful place.

The Commander snorted at this thought, nothing good had ever come from being one of his species. But for the cazars, life was like a silver platter with rewards and promotion handed on a regular basis. For him however, the most rewarding thing to ever happen on this station was when one of the young transfers spilled his hot drink into the lap of a female servicewoman. Needless to say, that guy couldn't touch his face or feel his crotch for the next 6 weeks. But for Jade's kind, it was all commanding posts and political power handed to them by the hilt of the universe. Was life just unfair or was it some form of karmic retribution…

"Heh…or maybe I'm just unlucky…" He chuckled to himself.

"What?" Questioned a bewildered Jade. Though this wasn't the first time she'd caught the captain muttering incoherently, it still worried her whenever her superior blurted out random spouts.

"It's nothing…nothing" He waved to her, dismissing the need for concern yet again. Making another shift in his chair, the Commander laid his elbow on the armrest and nestled his chin onto his palm. "How long has Anders been in the bathroom?"

Jade sighed, turning in her chair to face him. "Since when has Anders actually used the bathroom? He's probably in the break room sharing jokes with Dargus again."

"Yeah…I guess you're right. Sorry, it's getting hard for me to remember some of these things." He scratched his head, hoping that Jade would drop it at his proclaimed half-truth and return to her duties. The thing about this station was most of the crew that transferred onboard were back off again within 3-6 months of coming aboard. The rotation of crew was so high that the Commander, being the only person on station year round, believed it didn't matter whether he understood the behaviors and quirks of every individual. Usually, they'd be assigned to other jobs and locations before any kind of informal conversation could be arranged. And with the station holding a crew of 25, he himself only encountering 5-6 of those people on a daily basis, the need to know such petty details was insignificant next to keeping the station in orbit. As long as he they didn't crash the place or release the internal atmosphere, he couldn't care less about what they did or who they were before stepping into his gutter.

"Right…old age finally kicking in?" The cazar returned with a smirk. Even in the short time she'd been here, she knew how to push the Commander's buttons. It was a nasty habit she picked up only a few weeks into her tour, replacing what had previously been a very formal and courteous disposition. Though he probably brought this on himself through his own bad habits and boy did he have a long list to read. Foul language, drinking while on duty, a sarcastic tongue, a long list of constant code violations, a grumpy temperament, and recently foul breath. Though the last one came as a result of an error in the latest supply shipment and it would be another 2 weeks before the next relief ship came.

"I suppose it's getting close to retirement for me," he whispered with a tired sigh.

"Really? I assumed the Federation was just going to keep you here for the rest of your life!" She said with a gentle tone.

"Yeah, and I considered sending a letter of recommendation to have you put there right along with me. I mean, you've been such a great help around here and this place couldn't possibly go on without your tender touch!" The commander rolled back in his chair, smiling as he watched his fish take the bait.

"Right. And if you had that much leeway with Fleet Command, you would probably be serving in the central fleet, right alongside that lombax captain aboard the Phoenix." The Commander cursed himself as he realized she called his bluff…again.

"One of these days…they can't keep me here forever." He growled softly, tightening his fist.

"No, but they can sure as hell try." She chuckled, turning back to her console just beneath the radial looking pane. She seemed to pause for a second, looking closer at her screen before turning back around.

The Commander took note of her strange movements. "What? Is there a leak in the cooling pipes again?"

"No, sir. I just picked up three ships jumping out of FTL just beyond the gravity well." She stated, her voice laced with alarm and a hint of panic.

"Are you sure it's not an error? When's the next ship scheduled to jump in?" The Commander exclaimed, sitting upright in his chair.

"The next ship isn't supposed to be here for 3 days, and even so, that's just one ship! And this is definitely not a bug. I've got heat readings on the three targets and three blue shift markers from their entry!" She typed frantically, her eyes jolting across the screen in an attempt to gather as much sensory data as she could.

"Tell Anders and Dargus to get their smelly carcasses to the bridge ASAP!" It was quite a vexing situation for him. The first sign of action for him in almost 5 years and half his bridge staff was out for coffee. He might as well have been caught in the bathroom with his pants down and a gun to his ass! He could only try to stay calm and sit still as Jade attempted to contact them through the station's many communication terminals. With any luck, they would be back at their posts in less than 5 minutes.

"Jade, can you indentify their configuration? Any radio tags? IFF signals? Give me something I can work with."

She worked quickly, looking through the correct fields for any hints at the requested info. "Negative, sir. Ship configurations don't match any known database. No known IFF tags. If anything, they're certainly not Federation built!"

"An attack, perhaps? The first step toward an invasion?" inquired the Commander, his heart sinking at the thought of defending against an armada of ships.

"I don't think so. All three ships have a hull length of roughly 100 yards. They're no larger than frigates, sir." Moving with mechanical efficiency, she continued to track and observe the new arrivals.

"Well, it's not an invasion then. I guess until we know more, we should move to standard procedure. Start broadcasting a message on all possible channels with all known languages. When you're done with that, roll out the welcome committee and let's see if we can't get a closer look at these guys!" Though it was three frigates, if they were armed well enough they could still pose a significant threat to the station.

That, however, was what the 'welcoming party' was for. A small contingency of fighters and bombers stationed on the outpost. Consisting of two squads, one quintet of fighters and another of bomber craft, the pilots and their mechanical team made up the second portion of the station's crew. Between the limited anti-fighter defenses and the small group of 10 strike craft that stood between this station and any enemy force, the thought of such limited defensive measures made the Commander's stomach churn.

Jade stopped typing for a second, reaching beneath her seat before sitting back up and placing a headset on her crown. "This is Rilgar Station Command. All pilots, report to your stations and prepare for emergency interception. I repeat…"

Bursting in through the door, the two missing crew members ran through the door and took up their seats on either side of the Commander.

"What did we miss? Did the sewer pipes block up and burst again?" Dargus, a tall young Novalian, sat at the strike group communications post. He placed the heavy headset around his skull and began his coordination effort with the pilots prepping on the hanger levels.

"Nah, I think we've finally found a fleet stupid enough to attack this barren heap of backwater shit!" Anders, the deck officer that had interrupted the Commander's slumber just a few minutes earlier, plopped down in his seat and started attempting to connect to a Federation communication post.

"Both of you shut up and do your jobs! If Jade has followed procedure, as she usually does, then you have already been forwarded all known information. So sit down, shut your traps, and get busy!" The feeling of desperation was readily apparent in the Commander's voice.

This station was filled to the brim with fresh recruits and the only one with any actual military experience sat watching the whole thing from his command chair. The situation was delicate, not exactly the kind of position he would recommend pushing raw recruits into. If even one mistake was made, one small piece fallen out of place, it could spark an incident of galactic proportion. The thought of the resulting collateral damage was enough to further singe the Commander's already fried nerves and patience.

"Sir, both squads report ready for launch," informed Jade, still working furiously from her post as if the whole world were coming to an end.

"Loading the fighters into launch tubes 6-10. Bomber wing is standing by in tubes 1-5, ready to launch on your command." Reported Dargus.

With the defensive wing in place he could use them for reconnaissance of the incoming craft and, if necessary, an attack force capable of repelling any mal-intent their unexpected visitors may bear. The Commander made a silent prayer that it wouldn't come to that, but if Hell did break loose they'd at least have a fighting chance!

"Release squad Alpha. Hold Squad Beta until loading is complete and launch them out to cover our bombers. Have Alpha move straight to the target and commence observational flight patterns only. I don't want anyone opening fire until we know for certain that the ships are hostile!" His voice was losing its edge in this situation and the barking wasn't as audible as he was used to. He accredited it to his nerves acting up and dismissed any notion that it was his normal demeanor breaking down from beneath the strain.

Then again, the notion of nearly a dozen rookie pilots with itching trigger fingers didn't serve to calm him. No, as long as they didn't do anything foolish, they would all come out ahead in this. He just had to focus on the reward of a successful outcome. Maybe they would give him a medal for the successful discovery of a new alien species. Such commendation would surely get him away from this rock and into a more comfy chair. Yes, unquestionably this was all good fortune making its way to him from the far reaches of space. This would be the beginning of something great, the revival of his military career!

"Alpha leader reports having reached the target. They are requesting additional instructions!" announced Jade, the Commander taking note of the sudden faintness in her voice. Perhaps she was just as shaken by the notion of the potential fallout in these circumstances.

Then if success was to be unavoidable, he would have to step up and take charge himself! "Patch Alpha leader through to the bridge. I want to hear from him myself!"

It didn't take long for Jade to transfer the audio from her personal headset to the Bridge's loudspeaker system. With another set of commands, she activated the microphone stashed away in the Commander's chair and prepared herself for what came next.

"Alpha leader, this is Rilgar Outpost CIC, actual! Report status of the targets." His voice boomed throughout the bridge's periphery, easily audible for both the crew on the bridge and the young academy graduate communicating from the other side.

A short crackle was heard before the sound of heavy breathing broke through the static. It was promptly evident that the pilot was uneasy, but what about was anyone's guess. "CIC, this Alpha One! Currently making observational runs at the approaching craft and attempting to keep our distance."

"Roger Alpha One. What exactly can you make out on the ships? Are they war vessels or unarmed transports?" The Commander queried, curious about what clues could be found from this sudden and unexpected visit from afar. If they truly were warships, then surely they would have the obvious signs that marked any combat capable ship.

The radio cackled back to life as the frightened pilot continued to breathe heavily into his helmet mic. "I can make out…two different configurations. Both frigate class! The center one appears to be unarmed, or at least with no visible weapons on the hull surface. The flanking ones, however, I can spot two cannon barrels jetting out from the forward area. They must be escorts for the center one!"

Two escorts and one unarmed transport? Smelled like standard diplomatic procedure, though normally one would expect at least a cruiser and its associated strike craft along for the ride. That and something about this didn't sit right with the commander, a gut feeling that arose during periods of uncertainty. It was a feeling that once served him well aboard the Sigurd and he wasn't about to start ignoring it now.

"Good. Continue to keep an eye on the three craft and keep us informed of any changes," the Commander replied, starting to feel queasy from the ambiguity of the situation.

"Yeah, now my question is who's escorting who?" Dargus spoke up, turning in his seat to face the Commander from his central chair.

"Are you suggesting something about the target, Lieutenant?" He inquired.

Standing up from his chair, Dargus explained his statement to the Commander. "On Marcadia, back when I was still a junior officer in the Academy, one of my tactical instructors had a phrase he would constantly repeat throughout lectures. 'If you can keep your opponent focused on one hand long enough, then you can strike with the other before he even realizes his mistake.' Sir, I've been thinking about that and…what if the two flanking craft aren't escorts but decoys and the central craft is the real threat?"

The Commander scoffed at this thought, that a small frigate class design was capable of hiding weapons under its shell. Most of the room on the ship would be taken up by crew quarters, propulsion, power, and the bridge. There simply wasn't enough room on a frigate to hide any weapons of significance.

"I'd say you were paranoid and that you should stop watching all those holo-vids before going to sleep every night," he answered, trying to disregard the statement from his young charge. But even he had to admit, though slight, that the possibility of veiled intent was evident.

Before he could continue, the sound of static erupted throughout the bridge before being replaced with the sound of over-exerted breathing. "Sir, we've moved in closer to the lead ship…I think I can spot a turret. It seems to be tracking us but…I don't know, it's just following us. Sir, I don't like the looks of this. Requesting permission to engage target!"

And to make matters worse, his recon group was getting more jumpy. If the rookies were kept in this situation for much longer, they might spark an unneeded conflict. He had to pull them back before that happened!

"Negative. Your orders are to back off from the target and observe from a safe distance. I repeat, back away!" His voice practically shook the bridge, having risen to his feet just to help alleviate the oncoming tension.

Bursting back through the static, the pilot was panting harder than it was ever thought possible. "Sir, the lead ship just fired something…is that a missile? Oh God, it must be! It has to be!"

Hearing this, the Commander turned his way toward Jade as she processed the figures. "Commander, I'm not reading a missile launch. There was a heat source launched from the ship, but I don't think it's not tracking. Could be a probe or flare…"

"Alpha one to CIC, the missile didn't track! It just self-destructed after launch. Turning to engage…we're not giving these sons of bitches a chance to shoot us down." With those words the audio on the bridge cut out, leaving the somewhat large room in shock and silence.

Feeling his heart skip a beat, the Commander realized he only had a few seconds to avert the failing situation. "Alpha, do not engage. I repeat, DO NOT ENGAGE GODS DAMMIT! Turn away now!"

The Commander's words fell on deaf ears and he could only watch in horror from the placate safety of his bridge as a small spark lit in the distance before disappearing in the vacuum. Realizing what had unfurled, his legs felt as though they would give out from under him and he was forced to return to his chair.

"Heat signature confirmed…concurrent with plasma beams igniting the ship's internal environment. It's gone Commander. And it seems the escorts are turning to leave the gravity well as well. What are your orders?" Jade turned to face her frantic superior, wiping his face with a sweaty palm and obviously trying to keep his own sanity in check. He no longer felt as strong and confident as when he walked on every morning and was quickly succumbing to the sudden strain of his laden emotions. When he failed to reply with his own given set of instructions, she turned back to her console and re-activated the headset. "Squad Alpha and Squad Beta, return to the hanger. I repeat, all strike craft RTB."

"Belay that order." Startling her, she swiftly turned to find the Commander looking down on her with a pair of cold and empty eyes. With a startling realization, she knew what was to come next.

"Sir…you can't! It was an accident, a misunderstanding, there was no wa-"

"Order…our fighters…to take down the remaining ships," he interrupted with a sharp tone.

"Commander! You want them to attack a pair of retreating ships!!? That's insane and it goes against every code-"

"I know the code Gods dammit," he interrupted again, this time standing from his seat to present his towering stature before the rest of the crew. "But if those ships escape, they'll likely return with a larger force. And when they do return, I doubt it will be to share diplomatic policy. Now I'm telling you again! Order all strike craft to engage the two ships!"

Jade paused in her chair, aware of the hole his gaze bore into the back of her skull as he waited for her to relay his final order. But how could she bring the hammer down on the lives of the innocent. They had bore them no wrong, and as far as she knew meant no harm. To them, the pilots under her command were the attackers and they the victims of an unjustified assault on an unshielded ship. But if they did get away then surely more of them would come and in greater force. The lives that would be given to stop that sort of threat would hang on her head for disobeying this order. Could she live with herself knowing full well that her actions had started a war? And thus, for the sake of saving lives as well as holding together what scrap of diplomacy that could be salvaged from this, she turned her mic back on and took a deep breath.

"All fighters…turn to radial vector 3275 at angle 62. You are authorized to attack the retreating envoy at your discretion." Her voice came out cold, blank. It gave the Commander chills listening to her speak in such a manner, only to make him wonder if things had really gone that far in such a short time. He imagined that she would probably hate him for forcing her into this kind of situation, and he didn't expect any forgiveness for the act of shooting an non-combatant in the back. But then again, what choice did he have?

The whole bridge fell silent at that statement, its members silently watching their distant craft converge on the fleeing ships and open fire. Expecting the ships to be immediately destroyed, the Commander felt his guts sink further when the first frigate held up against the passing Bombers.

"Sir, Alpha leader reports the escorts have shields. He's bringing the group around to attack again," reported Jade, her voice conveying the same level of tension that could be felt all across the bridge.

The aging officer tapped the side of his leg with the palm of his hand, watching from afar as the bomber squad swooped back and force across the target, each subsequent strike bringing the target's shields closer to collapse. Finally, after a half dozen passes, Alpha leader reported a break in the enemy's defenses and quickly proceeded to destroy the target. The ship may have had a fine shielding array, but the hull didn't last but two passes from the quintet and was quickly blasted into flaming pieces of slag.

Following the small explosion that signaled the destruction of the small vessel, Jade twisted in her seat while keeping her torso mostly facing the console. "Sir, at this rate they won't destroy the other ship. Radiological detection suggests its warming up its FTL drive and is preparing to make a jump as soon as it leaves the gravity well!"

The Commander fidgeted, unsure of what he could do to help the situation. Drawing a blank on anything elaborate, he could only come up with the simplest of solutions. Although it was a long shot, there was nothing more he could do to assist the building crisis.

"Have Beta squadron support Alpha. Though it won't be much, it may give them a fighting chance!" Squirming at his own decision, he knew it was probably a futile effort. Being a fighter squad, Beta group would probably have little effect on the enemy's defensive measures. Fighters were optimized to take down other fighters and bombers, which meant that they couldn't be laden down with heavy weapons. Having them attack anything larger than a corvette was comparable to shooting paper pellets at a titanium wall. Both would bounce off and leave no lasting impression.

Still, they waited as the tiny craft waged battle on the last retreating ship, their efforts growing ever closer to being in vane as the ship inched closer to jumping distance. Even from this far away, the Commander could see the small specks of light and blue beams impacting off the ship and watched intently for the first sign of the ship's destruction. No ball of fire came, no short tempest of flame and smoke only to dissipate and disappear into nothingness. Instead, he could only grip harder at his pant leg and growl with fear as the ship vanished in a flash of light, taking with it his last hope of redemption.

The whole group fell silent as all eyes turned toward the Commander, anxious for him to devise a way to turn this whole mess around. When a minute had passed in a long, unending silence, the realization hit that it was all over and there was nothing they could do to change it. They had dropped the ball on this one and surely they would be hanged for failure to uphold Federation diplomatic code. Even if not killed in the literal sense, this was probably the end for them and what little they had to their careers.

"Anders…did you manage to get contact with Fleet Command?" The Commander's voice came softly, yet with a vicious undertone that troubled the young officer.

"N-n-no, there was too much interference from a passing EM storm," stuttered Anders, oblivious as to what the captain was getting at.

The Commander straightened up at this, the grip on his pant leg easing up and his breathing slowed down. "I want you to cease communication and shut down the antenna array for a few minutes. After letting it sit idle for awhile, bring it back online and leave it alone. If Fleet Command contacts you regarding an attempt at communication, claim it to be in error."

Before those words had even left his mouth, Jade had wheeled around in her chair and stared up in horror at her superior's falsehearted orders. "Sir, are you suggesting we hide all this. We can't do that! We have to warn Command about a possible aggressive response! Ignoring something like this would be treason!"

"And what are you suggesting we do then?" He burst out, causing Jade to jump slightly in alarm. "We tell them that we fired first on a passive envoy and everything you have worked for will be for naught. Even if we aren't sent to jail, the stigma placed on us will be more than enough to destroy what little you and your graduate entourage have built for yourselves. When the court martial ends, then we can kiss this rock goodbye and greet our next duty swapping floors on the surface of another gods-forsaken world. Is that what you want? Is that what any of you want!!?"

He looked around, staring at the grief stricken faces plastered onto each of his crew members. Jade herself looked to be on the verge of tears as his words slowly sank in. They couldn't go through with reporting this, as it would spell the absolute end for all of them and cut short any talk concerning his departure from Rilgar station. He looked again into the horrid gazes his crewmen gave off and could only feel sympathy for them. They never asked for this situation and yet they had to live with the consequences just the same. Fate…truly the cruelest of temptresses.

"We're going to keep this under wraps. When the pilots return, I want them sent up to my quarters for a…personal discussion of the matter." Turning around, the Commander dropped from his heightened post and made his way for the exit. "And anyone that tries to commune this matter to anywhere beyond these walls might just find themselves in a mishap involving an airlock…"

The door behind slid shut, hiding his back from the faces of his grieving subordinates and giving closure to the first stage in a long series of horrific acts and painful tragedies…

A/N Well, that's the end of the preview. There is still plenty of build up needed before any form of excitement happens, but that's the thing about war. The suffering will always exist for longer than the physical pain it brings about. Anyway, the more reviews, the more likely I'll continue. Chao!


End file.
